


Finding Our Way

by Dulcinea



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bottom Son Goku (Dragon Ball), First Time, M/M, Mutual Pining, Romance, Top Vegeta (Dragon Ball)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:48:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28377216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dulcinea/pseuds/Dulcinea
Summary: Goku's been missing for three months. Only Vegeta knows the reason why, and he needs to rectify the mistake, now.
Relationships: Son Goku/Vegeta (Dragon Ball)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 69





	Finding Our Way

Finding Goku proved to be a task Vegeta didn’t prepare to find daunting. The man’s ki wasn’t just hidden—it disappeared. Straight up _gone_. Thanks to Whis’s help, Vegeta learned the man was still alive, which quelled the sudden uneasiness and anxiety that rose to unimaginable, unsustainable heights until the moment Whis said he was alive. But Whis wouldn’t tell Vegeta where he was. “If he’s hiding, he clearly doesn’t want to be found,” and Vegeta knew he wouldn’t get help from him.

But it was months now. Three long months since he last saw Goku. Months since he last sparred with him, talked with him, saw his stupid smile, heard his stupid laugh, and he knew why he hadn’t. He knew full well why Goku wasn’t here, why he disappeared without a trace, why he left without telling anyone anything—and it was all his fault. He knew it was all his fault.

Vegeta rested his head in his hands.  
  
 _Shit_.  
  
All the warning signs were there. Goku attempting different ways to talk to him in private. Goku finding ways to get closer to him before sparring, after sparring. Goku asking questions about his past, about planet Vegeta, about the Saiyan race, things he had never done before—things he had never shown any _interest_ in knowing. But now he was. Now he was getting closer, and Vegeta thought nothing of it.

 _It’s fine_ , he thought then. _Of course he’s asking me these things. I’m his best friend. We’ve been together for twenty-something years. I know him, but he doesn’t know much about me, or our race’s history. He’s only curious. It doesn’t mean anything else._  
  
Three months later, Vegeta’s thoughts were proven wrong.  
  
It happened out of nowhere, right after their latest spar. Happened in the middle of nowhere too, nearby the place where they first met ages ago. The fight intensified between them. Their power escalated higher and higher. The spar ended in a stalemate, both equally matched as usual, and Goku was the first to power down. The first to suggest they take a break. The first to suggest they eat or go drink some water or something, and Vegeta remembered agreeing with a grunt.

He even remembered what Goku wore that day. Not his usual gi but a different color: light blue gi top, dark blue-black gi pants, white sash. He even remembered complimenting the man on that new look, and Vegeta wanted to punch himself stupid for ignoring the way Goku reacted: his big stupid grin, his nervous chuckle, the way he scratched the back of his head—and that blush. A big, bright pink blush, blooming across his nose and both his cheeks. 

Vegeta saw that blush again, up close and in his face, when Goku looked at him that last time. When Goku smiled at him in a way he hadn’t seen before. A small, weak, nervous looking smile.

The way Goku touched his shoulder, and the way he whispered, “Hey V-Vegeta?” That stutter too.

He didn’t have an opportunity to reply when Goku’s lips pressed against his own.

Vegeta closed his eyes.

All the warning signs were there. All signs he must’ve ignored somehow, because they were so obvious. So blatant.

But he didn’t see it until it was too late. Didn’t see it until Goku put his lips to his, and Vegeta’s instincts acted first before his mind caught up to it. Actions he hated himself even now for doing.

The way Goku skidded on the grass and slammed back into a tree. The way Goku looked when he pulled himself up to his feet, holding his purple cheek—and the shine in those eyes. The hurt there.

The silence that followed cut deep. Vegeta waited for a blow up. A burst of emotion. Something.

Goku didn’t do any of that.

Goku held onto his cheek. Goku stared right at him.

Vegeta opened his eyes. In the reflection of the big mirror, he didn’t see himself. He saw Goku staring back at him with the look that still haunted him—a look of pure sadness.

The way he sounded when Goku whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Even now, those words stung.

Anytime Vegeta sat down and looked at a window, Goku was there in the reflection. Anytime he shut his eyes, there Goku was, behind his lids with that awful look. A look that was nothing Goku. A look that hurt worse than any fatal punch.

It haunted him these three long months. But he couldn’t find him. He wasn’t in the Hyperbolic Time Chamber. He was nowhere on Earth. He wasn’t anywhere on New Namek. He was close to gathering the dragon balls and wish himself to where Goku was, but he didn’t want to do that, in case they needed to use those balls in the future.

But he needed Goku back. He needed to see him, to apologize, to tell him—

Vegeta growled into his palms.

_Goddamnit._

There was only one person who could help. One person he hadn’t ask for any further help since the beginning, but Whis was his only chance now, and there was no way he would tell him the truth. No way, but he had to try. He had to.

He didn’t expect Whis to say, “Of course I’ll tell you.” His sudden hope died when Whis smirked at him. “But you have to tell me _why_.”

Vegeta’s hands twisted into tight fists by his sides.

“Unless, you _don’t_ want to see Goku again—”

“I hurt him,” Vegeta blurted out. “I need to apologize to him.”

“Oh?” Whis rose his eyebrows. “And how did you hurt him?”

Vegeta clenched his teeth.

“Did you happen to hit him too hard? Hmm, no, I really don’t see that happening—” Whis giggled when Vegeta let loose a small growl. “So it must be something else. It just has to be. Isn’t it, Vegeta?”

He only nodded once in reply.

“Interesting. Very interesting.” Whis closed the gap between them, looming over him. “What, pray tell, could _you_ have done to Son Goku of all people, to the point where he needed _my_ help in hiding far, far away from everyone, without a word to any of his loved ones, out of the blue?”

Vegeta bit back the _I don’t have to tell you_. He held back from snapping _screw you_ and _take me to him now dickhead._ He stopped himself from all of that.

Instead, he unclenched his jaw. Untensed his shoulders and hands. Took in a long, deep inhale, and held it at the top.

On the exhale, he blurted out, “He kissed me and I punched him.”

“Oh my stars.” Whis leaned back, one of his hands flying to his open mouth. “No _wonder_ he wanted to hide. You broke his heart!”

“Are you going to help me or not?”

Whis dropped his hand, tilting his head to the side. “Hmmm. I could take you to him. I was the one who put him into that void.” The glare sent his way nearly made Vegeta shake in his boots. “But if I take you to him, what’s to say you won’t hurt him again?”

His answer was an easy one. “I won’t.”

“Because…?”

“I refuse to say why to you.” He lifted his head high. “Only Kakarot needs to hear it from me.”

Whis grinned from ear-to-ear. “And that, dear prince, is the correct answer.”

With a lift of Whis’s staff, a white-blue light washed over him.

Vegeta covered his eyes with his gloved hand.

As quick as the light arrived, it dissipated just as quick. He blinked a few times to clear out his vision, his hand falling to his side.

A soft gasp ripped out of him when Vegeta could finally see.

Dark blue and purple hued emptiness. A large bed with light blue sheets. A small stove, oven and fridge. A small loveseat with an end table on each side. One tree out in the distance—like the tree from that day three months ago—and a stream that ran through it all, going out into the nowhere nothingness.

Near that tree stood Goku, in the same outfit from that day. Performing a kata in his base form. Meditating through movement. Focused and flawless. He looked good. He looked normal. Himself.

Goku was himself again. Goku was happy.  
  
 _I shouldn’t be here._  
  
He couldn’t move. The little voice in his head yelling at him _go on go on_ was too little. It didn’t match the feeling in his gut, the weight inside that sickened and saddened him at the same time.  
  
 _I should go._  
  
Vegeta watched Goku move.  
  
 _I should leave._  
  
He was there. Right there. Ten, twelve paces forward and Vegeta could touch him. But the gap between them was far enough.  
  
Goku didn’t sense him, somehow. Goku was in his own world, and he must’ve ignored his ki, must’ve just focused only on his kata and refused to go to him. Then maybe Goku didn’t want him here to begin with, didn’t want to see him, didn’t want to deal with him, and Vegeta wouldn’t have blamed him for it—  
  
Vegeta held his breath.  
  
He stopped his kata. He was turning his body.  
  
Their eyes met.  
  
Vegeta watched Goku’s eyes widen.  
  
In that moment, Vegeta felt fear.  
  
He didn’t flinch. Neither did Goku. Their stares were locked and tunneled down, pin-pointed on each other.  
  
Goku walked forward. He didn’t look angry, but he didn’t look like before. He didn’t look at ease.  
  
And then, Goku was there. Standing in front of him. Staring at him. Not phased. Not caring.  
  
Goku didn’t care that he was here.  
  
“Whis helped you,” he said.  
  
Vegeta nodded.  
  
“What do you want?”  
  
“I…” His throat was dry. _Kakarot, I—_  
  
“What are you here for? _Why?_ ” Goku hissed.  
  
Vegeta’s whisper hitched. “I needed to.”  
  
Goku’s cold tone didn’t waver. “You needed to.”  
  
Vegeta nodded. The urge to explain himself didn’t match his need to do what he should’ve three months ago. How he should’ve reacted. He needed to kiss him back. He needed Goku to understand. Needed to show Goku that he wanted him—

Then, Goku sighed. Rubbed his tired face. Looked like he was ready to almost cry, but there was that smile. That sweet smile Vegeta hadn’t seen for three months.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Goku said, scratching the back of his head now. A nervous tick Vegeta missed. “Maybe we should eat something, then talk. That sound okay?”

Vegeta nodded. A second later, both their stomachs growled as one, and something in Vegeta finally untensed and relaxed when he heard Goku’s sweet sounding laugh.

They ate in relative silence at the table in the middle of this dark blue void. Food appeared relatively quick: cold cuts, sweet treats, lots of pitchers of iced tea, lemonade and water. Goku explained, “This place is like the Hyperbolic Time Chamber but without the strange weather, the time difference and the heavy atmosphere,” and Vegeta understood. The place seemed lighter than the chamber, despite how dark everything was. It helped that there was a tree here, and a stream. It added something to the void. Made it seem less lonely.

Once they finished, Goku cleaned up the table, placing their dirty dishes into the sink. He walked over and gestured him to follow to the couch. Vegeta walked behind him, taking a seat on the far end of the loveseat, almost molding his body into the side while crossing his arms. Goku seemed to do the same himself on the other side, even mimicking his own arm crossing.

Goku’s steady breathing was loud in this void.  
  
Vegeta took a deep breath, licked his lips.

A long period of silence followed. Vegeta took the time to study Goku in the corner of his vision. The same blue gi like that day. Smudges of dirt on his face. Strong, chiseled muscles. The smell of sweat from his body after a long, hard workout.

He looked well rested. Healthy.

Hurt, too. Very hurt, and skeptical, all from the way Goku slightly eyed him from the corner of his own vision. How his lips slightly turned downwards. How he seemed to shrink a little into himself, curling into the corner of the loveseat more, as if he could disappear into the cushions.  
  
Vegeta regripped his hands over his own biceps.  
  
Goku’s heavy breathing filled the air.  
  
The couch shifted.  
  
He almost missed Goku’s soft whisper: “Why are you here?”  
  
Again. That same question, with questions on top of other questions. _Why are you doing this? Why now? Why did you come after three months? Why?_ All questions he anticipated. All with answers prepared, but his voice clammed up. His throat constricted.

One by one, the things he wanted to say slowly emerged. _Because I hurt you. Because I missed you. Because I fucked up. Because I had to. I had to get you back. To bring you back. I had to find you and tell you…_  
  
Vegeta’s back rose and fell with his sigh.  
  
 _I want you back. I need you back._ _I shouldn’t have hit you. I shouldn’t have done that to you. I’m sorry, Kakarot._  
  
He closed his eyes.  
  
 _I’m sorry. I miss you. I need you._  
  
His arms slowly unfurled until they hung between his legs.  
  
Vegeta took a deep breath.  
  
 _I…_  
  
“I love you.”  
  
Goku gasped.  
  
Vegeta’s eyes snapped wide open.  
  
 _What did I…_ He stared at the dark blue-purple emptiness in front of him. _I love him?_  
  
Wrong words. They weren’t the wrong words, because they weren’t supposed to be said—or thought of. _I’m sorry, I miss you, I want you_ , those were more than fine, but this?  
  
He couldn’t look at Goku.  
  
This wasn’t supposed to happen. This wasn’t how he envisioned it. There wasn’t a plan when he came here, he had no plans, just a goal to find to him and apologize, but after seeing Goku again, the way he looked, the time spent without him, the way he missed him, how long he searched for him, the hope he held onto for so long, needing him back, needing things returning to how it was before, but this—this was anything but.  
  
And Goku was quiet.  
  
Vegeta couldn’t move.  
  
 _I… love him._  
  
He rolled the thought around in his head, the nightmare images of Goku holding his cheek after he hit him, Goku’s look when he transmitted away that day, Goku smiling at him before Vegeta made that awful mistake. Memories filtered in next, from the day of his arrival to Earth to now. Goku fighting him with everything in his power, without fear of him, without care of his status or his title. Goku sparing his life, needing to fight him again, pleading with Krillin to keep him alive. Goku listening to his final words before he passed away on Planet Namek. Goku’s big grin when he emerged from the pod after a year gone. Goku smiling at him, goading him on, teasing him, telling him “I wasn’t implying” when he told Vegeta that he was stronger than himself now during Cell. How Goku pleaded with him to stay alive, to hang on, how he couldn’t throw that Spirit Bomb without potentially killing him for good, during that fight with Buu. And so many more. Everything after those moments. Everything leading to the last time he saw Goku, until now.

Vegeta stared down at his gloved hands.  
  
Goku was still quiet.  
  
The thoughts in his head gathered up into a big pile and he shifted through them, trying to make sense of himself. He was a villain, deep down. He wasn’t supposed to get a second chance at life, didn’t even think he had a piece of a soul left in himself, until Goku. He still believed he was going to go to Hell for all the things he did in his past—the atrocities, the genocides, the murders and the sadistic glee he took in killing innocents—but Goku made him… better. Made him change. Bulma helped, his children solidified the transformation, but Goku was the first. Goku was the catalyst. And Goku never stopped cheering him on. Never stopped pushing him. Never stopped fighting him, not just in spars, but in the mental games Vegeta’s psyche liked to play on him.

Goku believed in him. Goku had faith in him.

Goku clearly loved him for who he was, enough to attempt to kiss him.

Vegeta slowly blinked.  
  
 _I… love him too._  
  
His lips curled into a tiny smile.

_I love him._

He stared at his gloved hands, how they started to shake. A very tiny part of his mind yelled at him that this didn’t make sense, he was jumping the gun, it wasn’t right, it wasn’t okay, but it did make sense. It was okay. Everything in his life led up to this. It wasn’t warning signs from Goku that he missed—it was _obvious_ signs that he should’ve recognized since the beginning but didn’t. Signs that meant Goku was ready for him, because Vegeta didn’t want to acknowledge or accept any feelings outside of anger, frustration or annoyance about Goku. He never wanted to admit that he cared for the fool, worried about him, thought about him constantly, that the man wormed his way into his heart just like Bulma and his children did and Vegeta couldn’t imagine his life without him. It absolutely made sense. But this, all of this—he’d never go this far for anyone but Goku. And that was okay to feel, to think. More than okay.

For once, Vegeta felt peace.  
  
Goku finally whispered back, “I want to believe you.”  
  
Vegeta sat up straight, turning to the side. Goku wasn’t looking at him but at the floor, hugging his arms around himself now, rather than cross-armed like before. “You don’t have to. You have no right to believe me whatsoever.”

He watched Goku sigh, how he squeezed his fingers deeper around his biceps. The wry, sad smile on his face broke something inside Vegeta, as did the hoarse whisper of: “I want to though.” Goku closed his eyes, and Vegeta heard the crack in his voice. “I wish I could stop...” Goku’s sad, tiny laugh sucker-punched Vegeta’s stomach. “Wishing. Hoping.” He shook his head no. “Like the idiot I am.”

“You are not the idiot.” Vegeta turned his body fully towards Goku’s direction. “I am.”

“Yeah, right.”

“I never should’ve punched you—”

“It’s fine—”

“I should’ve kissed you back instead.”  
  
He watched Goku sharply turn his way, sitting upright.  
  
“I should’ve kissed you,” Vegeta repeated, “not hit you. I’m sorry I did that.”  
  
“I…” Goku’s arms unfurled. “You’re sorry?”  
  
“I am.” Vegeta smiled. “It’s why I had to find you. Whis refused to tell me so I tried doing it on my own, but I couldn’t do it. When I told him I wouldn’t hurt you again, he finally brought me here.”  
  
Goku’s face fell. “But… you…” Doubt and hurt crossed his face. He turned away.

Vegeta took the opportunity to scoot himself closer. His arm laid across the headrest, behind Goku.  
  
“You don’t mean it.” Goku shook his head, his hands bunching up into fists on his lap. “You can’t. You never apologize. You never saw my advances anyway, and when I finally kissed you—”  
  
“I should’ve kissed you back.”  
  
“But you didn’t. You don’t do things like that, Vegeta, and I should’ve known better. I should’ve known you would’ve done that, but I didn’t, and I ran away, I hid from you and everyone, but now you’re here, and you’re saying these things—things I never thought you’d ever say to me—and I just—I can’t—” Goku growled, “ _But I want to._ I want to believe you, even _now_.”  
  
The gap between them was little. Vegeta lifted his hand from the couch to the back of Goku’s head. “I am sorry… Goku.”  
  
Goku’s gasp sounded loud in his ears. He watched his head jerk up, those wide black eyes staring right at him finally, and he could see it: the doubt, and the hope. The need to believe. The desperation and the shock.  
  
Vegeta’s gloved fingers weaved into Goku’s hair.  
  
He didn’t react when Goku flinched away.  
  
“Vegeta…”  
  
The fear. The uncertainty.  
  
Goku was scared of him.  
  
His other hand laid over Goku’s forearm.  
  
He leaned in. “Let me make it up to you.”  
  
His fingers slid down Goku’s head.  
  
Goku’s lips were so close.  
  
Vegeta cupped his cheek.  
  
Hip touched hip. Thigh touched thigh.  
  
The smell. The warmth.  
  
Goku’s beautiful eyes.  
  
Vegeta closed his as he whispered, “I love you.”  
  
Their lips met in a soft kiss.  
  
Goku was warm. _So warm._  
  
His hand left Goku’s forearm for the other cheek. He tilted Goku’s head up, his tongue gently pressing—asking for the permission he needed granted. And a deep moan escaped when those lips gave way and opened up to him, letting him in.  
  
Tongues touched. Warm, wet heat ate up his senses, sending a shiver from his mouth down to his stomach, down to his toes. Burning his insides. Making him alive.  
  
He moaned again when hands touched his chest.  
  
 _Kakarot…_  
  
Palms flattened out. Fingers slid up.  
  
The kiss slowly petered out.  
  
Goku pulled away.  
  
Hands pushed him back.  
  
 _No._ His head spun. _No_ —  
  
Lips crushed against his. _Oh God._ Breath escaped too quick out his lungs. He found his head and neck tilted back, his mouth shoved open by a demanding, eager tongue. _Oh fuck._ His arms snapped around Goku’s torso to keep balance, chest meeting chest. _Fuck._ Hands pushed underneath his spandex top, up to his shoulders— _Kakarot_ —and he moaned when the spandex and the armor pushed over his face and was flung somewhere out behind the couch.  
  
His body acted before his mind did, pulling Goku to him and turning them around. He hoisted him up onto his lap and settled back into the cushions, every tremor in Goku’s body matching the tremor Vegeta felt too. But Goku’s hands were sure. They rubbed his chest, squeezed his pecs, delved in and palmed down his sides, reaching for any warm skin they could find, and Vegeta arched his body, shimmied his arms to his pants and worked them down over his hips and thighs to the best of his ability, so he could give Goku more to stroke, more to touch. And he did. Fingers skipped over his biceps, under his pits, thumbed his nipples and he gasped into Goku’s mouth, almost breaking their kiss. His own hands followed along, slipping down and under Goku’s gi top. Warm skin burned his palms good, and he did as Goku did. He sunk his fingertips in, squeezing, pulling his flesh, and the long moan Goku released into his own mouth made his cock twitch.  
  
They moved together, their actions a reaction to the other. When his hands groped Goku’s back, from tailbone to shoulders, Goku’s went down his chest, down to his own white sash. With a lift of Goku’s hips, the gi pants easily fell off his hips, exposing his hard cock to the cool air. Goku never broke their kiss as he slid his gi pants all the way off, and Vegeta gasped as Goku did the same to his spandex pants. The gi top went second, breaking their kiss briefly, Goku lifting his arms up in the air as Vegeta pulled it off slowly, exposing his chest and hard nipples that begged to be touched, and Vegeta gave into the tiny temptation, flicking one with his thumb.  
  
Goku jolted in his lap. “Agh.”  
  
He looked up at Goku in that moment, taking in what he saw. Tilted head. Shut eyes. Parted red, wet lips. Exposed throat. His chest. His tummy. His legs on either side of his knees, and the hard cock in front of him, wet and red at the tip, pulsing against the small of Goku’s chiseled belly.

 _Fuck._ Vegeta leaned up to kiss the underside of his throat. _Kakarot._  
  
His mouth moved across Goku’s neck and throat, planting small kisses along the fine skin. His nose dragged along, smelling faint traces of sweat. At the base of his neck, he gave him one last kiss and stayed there, breathing him in, his arms settling around Goku’s waist.  
  
He didn’t want to move. Not out of fear, but of comfort. Goku felt good in his arms. _He_ felt good. After the last three months, Vegeta finally felt good, just being like this. Just from holding Goku.  
  
Vegeta hugged him tight.  
  
He breathed him in. Hot breath blew back onto his face.  
  
 _I love you, Kakarot._  
  
A hand rested on the top of his head. The other landed in the middle of his back. He felt fingers pet his hair first, slipping through his scalp. The other hand followed, making small circles over his spine.  
  
His eyes slowly drifted closed, his body unwinding and relaxing. His arms around Goku loosened.  
  
“Vegeta?” His voice was soft.  
  
“Mm?”  
  
“I…” He felt and heard Goku’s deep sigh. “I’m sorry I left.”  
  
“Mm.”  
  
“I shouldn’t have done that. I was afraid of what would happen next. I wanted to delay the inevitable. I didn’t think I could’ve sparred with you again, let alone see you again, after what had happened between us. So I asked Whis for his help and he offered it, but I shouldn’t have done that. Or at least, I shouldn’t have gone for this long. Three months isn’t a long time compared to what I’ve done in the past, but I was… scared. I was.”  
  
“Mm.” The hand in his hair swiped fuller, stronger strokes. Vegeta’s toes curled.  
  
“I ran away, like a coward, and I couldn’t face you not just because of the kiss now, but because I ran. How could you look at me again, after I ran away? You probably hated me after that kiss, but running away? You probably didn’t respect me anymore. I could handle you hating me eventually, but after being here the first month, I realized there was a chance you didn’t respect me anymore, and that’s what really kept me away more than anything. I was afraid you didn’t respect me, after I worked so hard for you do show me that. So I kept hiding. I trained by myself. I asked Whis if he could create that tree for me from that day, almost like a physical reminder of my failure. The stream was so I could have something nice and relaxing to have here. And I wanted to take you to one too. Did you know I’ve always wanted to go fishing with you?”

Vegeta didn’t answer. His arms and legs tingled, his back warm, a smile buried away in Goku’s neck.  
  
The hands stopped stroking. Goku’s warm breath landed into his hair. “Gods, Vegeta, please tell me you respect me still. I’m sorry I ran away. I wasn’t thinking and I reacted—”  
  
“Kakarot?”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“I respect you, idiot.”

He smiled at the way Goku untensed against him. “Thank goodness.”

“ _And_ I love you.”  
  
“I love you too, but—”  
  
Vegeta planted a hand over Goku’s mouth, muffling his words. He straightened himself up and looked Goku dead in the eye. “I know you still don’t believe me.” His lips replaced his hand, keeping him quiet in a kiss, and when Goku finally relaxed in his arms with a soft moan, he pulled away to whisper, “But I love _you_.” And gave him another kiss. Another. “You.” And one more, deeper than the last.  
  
Goku moaned again, arms wrapping around his shoulders. His hands slid down to Goku’s ass, giving it a good squeeze. Another moan came out. A strangled “Vegeta” slipped too.  
  
He pulled back to moan, “Kakarot,” over his lips, and quickly covered them again.  
  
His legs pushed up from the couch, his arms taking Goku with him. They stumbled for balance as they kissed, tripping over their feet, all the way to the bed. But he couldn’t break the kiss. He hugged Goku close, his lips and tongue moving with Goku’s, and Vegeta felt no fear when they fell backwards, landing on top of the bed with Vegeta on top of Goku.  
  
A loud “oof” escaped between them.  
  
Vegeta pulled away, balancing on his elbows. “Sorry.”  
  
“S’okay—”  
  
He kissed him again. No more talking. Talking meant Goku would stop again. And Vegeta didn’t want to stop. He didn’t want to hear anything from Goku but his moans. Didn’t want to do anything else but this.  
  
His elbow dug into the mattress, holding himself up, while the other hand drifted down Goku’s sides—his ribs, the curve of his hip, the swell of his ass. Long, warm legs snapped around Vegeta’s waist first. Arms followed along, hugging Vegeta’s shoulders, pulling him back down.  
  
They moaned together when their cocks touched for the first time.  
  
 _Oh fuck._ Vegeta’s hips bucked. Goku’s bucked back. _Fuck._ Their cocks rubbed with every movement. _Fuck._ Slick. Hard. _Oh fuck._ His hands latched onto Goku’s shoulders, squeezing them rough, and Goku’s hands mimicked his, clutching all the skin he could from his back. _Fuck fuck fuck_ —his hips moved, Goku’s hips moved, they moved, together. A fast rhythm, a fast tempo, and Goku— _fucking_ —Goku was moaning, shaking, beneath him, breathing, his tongue, his mouth, his hips, _oh shit oh shit_ , Vegeta’s breath hitched, _shit shit shit_ —  
  
The kiss broke. “V-Vegeta,” Goku panted. “Stop. Stop.”  
  
His hips didn’t listen. _Fuck shit fuck—_ he squeezed Goku’s shoulders— _shit shit shiiiit—_  
  
“Stop.” Nails dug into his skin. Goku stilled beneath him. “Stop, Vegeta.”  
  
“Uhn.” His jaw clenched. “Shit.”  
  
“ _Stop_.”  
  
 _Shit._ He froze himself in place, fists in the sheets. A few deep breaths later, he panted, “What? What is it?”  
  
“We need lube.”  
  
“Uh?”  
  
“Get up.”  
  
Hands pushed at his chest. His body rolled to his side. The bed squeaked. His mind caught up. _Did he just…_  
  
On the other side of the bed, Goku opened up a drawer on the nightstand and pulled out a clear, unmarked bottle with a screw cap on top. He closed it and rolled back over to Vegeta on the opposite side of the bed, a bright pink blush blooming across the bridge of his nose to both cheeks.

Cool plastic pressed into Vegeta’s hand. Goku stuttered, “Here,” and he pressed it more into Vegeta’s hand. Trembling everywhere as he laid on his side, facing him.

His fingers squeezed the bottle _._ “You know what to do?”

“Um, yeah.” Goku looked away, scratching the back of his head—a nervous tick Vegeta missed. “I, uh… did some research and stuff, while I was away.” He shyly drifted his attention back to Vegeta. “So… you wanna?”

“I…” Vegeta looked back at the bottle. Back to Goku. Back to the bottle, his lips turning into a small frown. _I don’t know. It’s too fast. Isn’t it?_  
  
“Don’t you?” Goku sounded offended.  
  
“I do.” He looked right at Goku, saying, “But you’ve never done this before. I don’t—” He stopped himself short from finishing his sentence: _I don’t want to hurt you._  
  
Goku sighed, rolling away from him and sitting up. The bed shifted as Goku scooted away a few inches from him. Then, he snapped, “What _do_ you want? I mean, really. You came here after three months, tell me you love me—”  
  
“I do.”  
  
“Because why? Out of pity?”

“Kakarot—”  
  
“Because you want your sparring partner back in some way?”

Vegeta sat up completely on the bed. “You are more than that to me.”

He didn’t like the way Goku said, “Tch,” nor the way he slumped his shoulders forward as he muttered, “Yeah, right.”  
  
There was a gap between he and Goku again, despite how close in proximity they were on the bed. Goku tilted his head down and away from him, his bangs hiding his eyes from Vegeta’s view.  
  
“You don’t believe me,” Vegeta said.  
  
He watched Goku’s throat swallow. “I want to.”  
  
“You told me that already.”  
  
“So what are you going to do about it?”  
  
He sat up, scooting closer to Goku, closing the miniscule gap between them. Goku’s eyes were closed. Sweat collected on his brow and upper lip, dotted across his chest and down to his belly. His back formed a heavy curve, his cheeks and lips a sheen of light red.  
  
That head turned to him, and eyes opened. They had no color.  
  
Goku looked like the day he left. The same look.  
  
Vegeta’s hands cupped Goku’s face.   
  
Those eyes shined with unshed tears.  
  
 _So what are you going do about it?_ The challenge in those words. A challenge Vegeta was ready to face head on, and win.  
  
He pressed their foreheads together and answered: “Prove you wrong.”  
  
Goku’s lips met his when they kissed. There was no passivity this time. No hesitation. Arms found their way back around his shoulders, and he wrapped his around Goku’s waist, back where they belonged.  
  
Their bodies laid back on the bed, shifting around until they returned to the same position, Vegeta settled between Goku’s spread legs. The desperation still existed in their kisses and touches, but Vegeta took his time kissing Goku, kissing a path down the curve of his neck, the rise of his chest, the dip of his belly, down to his pelvis. His hands smoothed out and under Goku’s hips and thighs, grasping them in his palms and lifting them over his shoulders. Fingers threaded through his hair, gentle pulls that encouraged him _more_ , just like the drawn-out, soft moans Goku spilled into the air. And he gave Goku the more he needed, taking his cock into his mouth.  
  
 _Different._ He settled his tongue under the head and drew his mouth down, up, down. Slow movements. His hand wrapped around the base. _So good._ The feel, the texture. The smell and the size. The sounds too.  
  
“Oh…” The sound of his name. “Vegeta…”  
  
He moved slow, following the length. The fingers in his hair held on.  
  
“ _Fuck_.” Goku’s thighs flexed around his head. “Oh fuuuck.”  
  
A long, loud moan. Heavy, labored breathing. He moved faster, and the thighs flexed again. He ran his tongue under, over, under, pressed the tip, and the thighs squeezed around him, the fingers squeezed above him, Goku bucked under him, and his dick twitched at the soft “ _oh_ ” Goku let go.  
  
He did it again. Another brief, soft “oh.” He drew his mouth up, down, and out came another, “oh.” His tongue circled, pressed, circled again, and Goku twitched in his hold and choked, “ _Vegeta_ ,” like a plea.  
  
His hand stroked and squeezed the base. Hips twitched. His other hand searched the bed for the bottle. Goku twitched. His jaw hurt. His fingers fumbled with the cap. Sweat stung the corner of his eyes.  
  
“Please,” Goku moaned. Another “oh,” and then: “Please, Vegeta. Please…”  
  
He gave one last stroke to Goku’s cock. His mouth slowly pulled away. Cool air hit his warm mouth and neck, taking in a deep breath. “Turn—” He cleared his throat, pressing a hand to a thigh. “Turn around.”  
  
The fingers in his hair flattened out. “Okay.” They pulled away trembling, just like legs on his shoulders trembled, bending away and off. He watched Goku shift on the bed, curl up to his side, readying himself for all fours.  
  
His hand reached out and pressed down on Goku’s hip. “Stay like that.”  
  
Goku trembled all over. “Uh?”  
  
“Your side.”  
  
“Oh.” He settled down.  
  
The blankets moved under him as he slid up behind Goku, taking the lube with him. He laid it between them to push his hand under Goku’s thigh again. “Up.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Push your knee to your chest.” He did it for him. “Like that.” His fingers skirted down Goku’s inner thigh. “Is this what you want?”  
  
“Y-Yes. Yes, I, um…” Goku’s blush returned, intensified and brighter than before. Vegeta nearly melted into the sheets watching Goku’s eyes roll up to meet his, with a small, shy smile on his face. “I want it, like this.”

Vegeta kissed him then, a gentle sweet kiss to his soft lips. Against them, he whispered, “Did you fantasize about this, Kakarot?”

He nearly moaned at Goku’s shiver and soft gasp. “Y-Yeah. I did.”

“Did you touch yourself thinking about this?”

Goku wiggled beside him, a small moan slipping out as he rushed out, “All the time.”  
  
“Mm.” Vegeta kissed his shoulder, grabbing the bottle in his hand between them. “Is this what you dreamed about?” He kissed higher up Goku’s shoulder. “Like this?” Kissed up to the side of his neck, as he opened the bottle. “With me?”

“Oh gods, yes. Yes, Vegeta.” Goku arched his neck to the side, offering him more skin to taste. “Always you. Only you.”  
  
He smiled, coating his fingers in lube. “Did I make you feel good, Kakarot?” He kissed his way up the side of Goku’s neck, right to the edge of his jawline. Against his ear, Vegeta groaned, “Did I make you come hard?”  
  
“V-Vegeta—” Goku gasped, jolted against him.  
  
“Shh, relax, Kakarot.” He slid a lubed finger around Goku’s hole, up and down the crack. “I want you to come hard. I want to make you feel good.” He kissed his way up Goku’s jawline, right to his earlobe, as he worked that one finger in slow, gentle, using as much lube as possible. “Because you deserve that. You deserve to feel amazing.”

Goku moaned, pushing his back against Vegeta’s chest. Around his finger, Vegeta felt Goku relax, felt his body melt against him, and he smiled, licking Goku’s earlobe, taking it into his mouth to worry it, suckle on it, circle his tongue around it just as he circled more lube around and inside his hole, again, and again. Until Goku shivered everywhere. Until Goku moaned and gasped and whimpered and made all these delicious sounds he loved and cherished hearing. Sounds only Vegeta could make him produce. Sounds that only Vegeta had the privilege of hearing.

His mouth left Goku’s earlobe for his shoulder. Vegeta eased the finger in and out slow, gentle, adding more lube to it until it rested all the way in. His thrusts were tempered—in, hold, out—going faster to match Goku’s breathing.  
  
More kisses. More moans. He chanced another finger in, and Goku moaned, “ _ohh_ ,” bucking back into him.  
  
“Uhn.” He pulled out to use more of the lube. His lips dragged on Goku’s skin, planting small, wet kisses on the shoulder’s curve. “Kakarot.”  
  
Another moan. Goku’s ass squeezed both of his fingers.  
  
He stretched him with every thrust, moving faster. His dick rubbed against Goku’s thigh, his hips rolling slow. His mouth pressed to Goku’s shoulder, tasting sweat on his tongue, and his inside of his stomach coiled up, telling him, _now now now._  
  
His fingers slipped out. He squeezed the rest of lube onto his hand, hissing when he touched himself. The _shuck shuck shuck_ slickness of his dick echoed in the void.  
  
The bottle ended up on the floor. He braced a hand on Goku’s hip, the other aiming his dick right.  
  
He pressed close, propping a leg up. Goku’s back tensed on his chest.  
  
His lips brushed Goku’s neck. “Relax, Kakarot.” He kissed the skin. “Let me love you.” Kissed it again. “Let me make you feel good.”  
  
Slowly, Goku nodded.  
  
The bed squeaked as he shifted his hips forward. The head of his cock pressed Goku’s hole—Vegeta groaned—and his nose brushed the base of Goku’s neck, slowly moving in.  
  
Warm. Tight.  
  
 _Fuck._  
  
Goku whimpered.  
  
He kissed Goku’s neck. “Relax.” Kissed it again. “Relax, my Kakarot…” His hand rubbed in small circles from hip to tummy. “I’ll make you feel good.”  
  
His hips pulled back, stopped, pushed in, just a little more.  
  
Goku’s hand fell on top of his and squeezed.  
  
He kissed the neck again. And again. “Relax.” And one more long one, right on the base, as he eased in the rest of the way.  
  
The hand twined fingers with his.  
  
“Vegeta,” Goku sighed. His head lolled over, onto the bed. “Oh Vegeta…”  
  
He dragged his lips across the juncture of his neck. _Fuck._ Tight, all around him. Squeezing. Getting used to the feel, the sensation.  
  
His nose rubbed the shoulder, smiling wide. _It’s happening._ He squeezed Goku’s hand— _it’s actually happening_ —and kissed the skin. “Kakarot...”  
  
He started slow, his hips moving in a steady rhythm. Long, easy strokes, easing in, easing out, and Goku met each one, releasing Vegeta’s hand to touch himself. He kissed Goku’s neck, kissed the sweat, Goku’s moans vibrating under his lips. His hands busied themselves, one on Goku’s head, one on Goku’s chest, petting the skin, petting the hair.  
  
 _Slow._ He leaned up to kiss his sweaty cheek. _Go slow._  
  
“Vegeta…” Goku lifted an arm up, reaching behind him. “Vegeta…”  
  
Fingers found his neck, the back of his head. He tilted up into the palm, propping a knee up, curving it into Goku’s—and groaned, “Fuck.” Pushing deeper into him.  
  
Goku moaned, “Yes… yes…” He squeezed Vegeta’s neck. “Please.”  
  
“Uhn.” His hips moved faster to that plea. “Kakarot. _My_ Kakarot _._ ”  
  
A soft whimper. Then: “More. Please, Vegeta.”  
  
 _Slow._ His hand on Goku’s chest pressed his sternum. “Yeah?”  
  
“Yes. Yes, oh gods, Vegeta, _please_.” Another squeeze to his neck, and the sharp pull jerked him down, crushing their lips together. “I feel so good,” he mewed, _fuck,_ and he gasped over Vegeta’s lips, “You feel so good in me.”  
  
 _Fuck._ He covered Goku’s mouth, ate up his moans, his hips pumping faster. _Fuck. Fuck._ He rubbed his chest, rubbed his stretched arm— _fuck fuck fuck_ —rubbed his hair and let the one arm flop to the side, over Goku’s head, the other hugging his waist again.  
  
And the pace went faster. The burn climbed faster. Their kisses turned frantic, teeth and tongue sinking into the mouth Goku offered him. And Goku was moaning. He moaned his name, he moved with him, he broke the kiss and jerked away to whimper, “Love me, Vegeta, please, love me,” each breath desperate and greedy for the next, and Vegeta gave in, gave up, squeezing Goku to him, fucking hard into him, the bed squeaking, his body tensing, and he came hard, releasing strong, low grunts into Goku’s waiting mouth.  
  
He grunted-growled again when Goku squeezed around him a moment later, trembling against him, letting go a small, muffled squeak.  
  
Their lips moved together as he slowed down inside Goku, their bodies unwinding, muscle by muscle. His arm loosened around Goku’s waist. Goku’s arm gradually let his neck go, resting it over his forearm.  
  
When his hips finally came to a stop, Vegeta gently broke the kiss and whispered soft, “I love you.”  
  
Goku whispered back, “I love you too.”  
  
He smiled. Goku didn’t sound as unsure or afraid as before. _He believes me._ He kissed him one last time. _He loves me._ His head flopped back to the pillow, a loud _psh_ passing through his lips as sleep overtook him. _It’s finally okay._  
  
Hours later, Vegeta woke up neck-deep in the bedsheets, curled up in Goku’s large arms and all cleaned up from the waist down. He smiled at the sight of the love bites littered across Goku’s neck and shoulders, and he kissed the middle of Goku’s sternum as he slept on, snuggling up to that large, warm chest.

Vegeta didn’t mind whatsoever when Goku’s large arms hugged him tighter to him in his sleep. Because Goku was his now—and he was Goku’s. They found each other again, and Vegeta knew he wouldn’t let go of Goku again, ever.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so-so on how this fic turned out but I'm glad I got one more story in before the end of the year! Hope you enjoyed it.


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